it's just a little bit like drowning
by LittleBabeBlue
Summary: Or so Peter has come to realize.


_Writers Note: Not mine. Any mistakes, grammar or canon wise, however, I claim as my own._

Peter Pettigrew is a perfectly normal seventeen year-old boy.

Short, round, and blonde haired, he has an overprotective mother, a father he can't remember, and three very close friends. He aces a few of his school subjects, manages to pass still more of them, and fails spectacularly at a few as well. He has a crush on a girl who sits two seats in front of him, he's obsessed with sport games (though as Sirius reminds him laughingly at least twice a week, he can't play worth beans- but then, Sirius is like that), and his favorite food is steak and chips.

He's also a wizard.

(But for our story, that doesn't make him anything special.)

As a perfectly normal seventeen-year old boy, he doesn't really know what he wants to do with his life. And with Sirius, James, Remus, and him sprawled on the chairs in the common room (the four of them are collectively referred to as the Marauders, or Egotistical Jerks depending on who you ask) that is rapidly becoming a problem.

Peter is currently reading a letter from his mother, half of it gossiping about the neighbors and the other half wondering if he's had enough to eat this term. James then, all of a sudden, throws down the newspaper in anger. This is a new occurrence: the Marauders had never really been interested in the news before.

" Damn…bloody… _fuck_ …. _Look_ at this, Sirius." He thrusts the paper towards Sirius and Peter can see the disgraced Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black's face go white.

"Another Death Eater raid! Twice in a month!" James is practically snarling now.

"Was anyone hurt?" Remus asks. But of course: Remus is like that.

"Three injured but all taken care of by Mungo's, luckily." James answers. " I can't _wait_ to be out to school and actually fighting."

There's a pause at James outburst.

Sirius doesn't speak but he does clap James on the back. His face is still pale. Peter thinks he knows why. Bellatrix Black is becoming increasingly active with the Death Eaters: she's quickly cementing herself as the right-hand-woman of You-Know-Who.

They sit in silence for a bit.

"Well," Remus breaks the hush and looks down at their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. "You and Sirius will never make Aurors if we don't get this essay done." Remus cannot be an Auror as much as he would like to. This is left un-said but is missed by no one in the room.

"Aw, c'mon, Moony. Don't talk like that. That bigoted hag that came to talk to us about Ministry jobs…"

"It's alright, Sirius." Remus's voice is very soft. "I plan to fight in whatever way I can. Being an Auror just isn't practical."

Peter doesn't know what he wants to do. He's had career consultation of course but he doesn't want to be an Auror or a teacher or a Ministry worker. He's not a fighter, not someone who can break Dark spells, not someone who can battle Death Eaters in a shadowy alleyway.

"Yeah. Well. When the four of us leave this place, Voldemort" -James always uses his name. Peter tries but it just didn't have the cocky naturalness that it did leaving James lips, "won't know what hit him."

Peter doesn't have anything to say about that. James and Sirius know he's never been as vocal about them as being an Auror, and fighting, but they've always taken for granted that he'll be there, Peter Pettigrew, trailing behind them as he always does.

He's a normal seventeen year old boy. Normal seventeen year old boys don't want to enter wars where there may be no chance of winning. Normal seventeen year old boys don't want to think about lying dead in an alley ditch, or going out in a blaze of glory. Normal seventeen year old boys shouldn't have to deal with a mad-man, and his army. He wants to date, to travel, to figure out who he is, not worry about his friends or family or _yes_ whispers a voice inside his brain _himself_ dying horribly.

James and Sirius and Remus are not normal seventeen year old boys. He's always known this. Even back when they were eleven and the most serious thing they talked about was whether or not Lily Evans had cooties.

He must admit- he didn't count on the chasm that's just gotten wider and wider as they've gotten older.

His friends don't notice his discomfort. James has quickly moved from anger to excitement. Sirius has set the paper aside, and is loudly backing James up. Remus is just nodding, and shaking his head, and scribbling things down on parchment.

Looking at the letter from his mother, a long-ago memory comes to him. He nearly drowned once. It was a long time ago, before he went to Hogwarts, and his mother had let him out of her sight (she never did again). He remembers the frantic gasping for air, the feeling of slowly thrashing as he sank deeper and deeper, even as he desperately tried to reach the surface.

"Peter," Remus gives him a cautious smile. "You alright? You're very quiet."

"Of course," He answers. He doesn't want Remus to know he's already wondering if he should just stop thrashing and sink towards the bottom


End file.
